


More heaven than a heart could hold...

by KeepGoing



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Through the Years, it all ends up the two of them in the end, looking back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: You used to think you could save him. That you were saving him, had saved him all those times, all those years ago. But like the force of nature that Mickey Milkovich is, you know now he was saving you. Every single moment. Every single time.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	More heaven than a heart could hold...

> **_ He's _ ** **_ magic and myth _ **
> 
> **_ As strong as what I believe _ **
> 
> **_ A tragedy with _ **
> 
> **_ More damage than a soul should see _ **
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> You heard the yelling as soon as he opened the door and for a split second you forgot about your own pain because of the pain etched across his face. You know coming here was a risk but what do you do when  he’s the only thing that makes you feel anything lately?
> 
> You see it. The look of concern. It  disappears as quickly as it appears but you lock it away in your memory.  You’ll remember it  at a later time when you know the inevitable will come and he will spew hateful words at you to cover up his own fears.
> 
>   
>  Only 30 minutes later  you're inside him and he lets you wrap your hand around his and you take these moments because they are few between you, but you know  you'll never forget them. You press your forehead to the back of his greasy head and no matter how long  it's been since  he's showered you will always love the way he smells.
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **_ And if I try to save him _ **
> 
> **_ My  _ ** **_ whole world _ ** **_ could cave in _ **
> 
> **_ It just  _ ** **_ ain't _ ** **_ right _ **
> 
> **_ It just  _ ** **_ ain't _ ** **_ right _ **
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> You’ve been inside him twice already and  he's finally agreed to let you talk to Linda about getting him a job. You know  it's selfish;  you'll get to see him  almost  every day . Get to be inside him  probably more than once a day if tonight is any  indication . He  has to know why you brought it up. He may act dumb, but you know  he's not. He knows what  you're doing. And  he's acting dumb but you know  it's just easier for him act that way instead of admit what this is. Admit that after you left him and Mandy at their house, that your cell  didn't buzz not 3 hours later asking you to meet up with him because you know he missed you just as much as you missed him. But  it's fine.  You'll let him do that if  it's easier for him. 
> 
>   
>  His knee is pressing against yours roughly as you both get  more and more drunk and when he licks his lips and raises an eyebrow at you it makes your dick stir in your jeans and  you'll take it.  You'll take whatever he is willing to give you.
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **_ And do I try to change him _ **
> 
> **_ So hard not to blame him _ **
> 
> **_ Hold on tight _ **
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> “You love me. And your gay.”
> 
>   
>  He uses his fists to beat away the truth in himself. You know that. You know why your tooth  is cracked and probably a few ribs too. You know his knuckles are  probably still bleeding and  he's probably still sitting in that abandoned building replaying the horror and the pain of that day  over and over again .  It's easier for him to use pain to deflect pain.  It's the South side way. 
> 
>   
>  You cry until you  literally have nothing left in you. One hand grips the flat pillow while the other grips your cell praying to whatever god you know  doesn't exist that he will text or call you. But you know he  won't . He said everything he needed to say in that last kick to your face.
> 
>   
>  _ I  _ _ can't _ _ love you. I  _ _ can't _ _ be gay. Please just let me go. _
> 
>   
>  But you  can't . It just makes you want him more.
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **_ He drowns in his dreams _ **
> 
> **_ An exquisite extreme I know _ **
> 
> **_ He's _ ** **_ as damned as he seems _ **
> 
> **_ And more heaven than a heart could hold _ **
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> His face twitches again and  you've been watching him for a long time. You know you should  be exhausted too, and you are in your own way, but there is a buzz underneath your skin that you  can't shake. Your ribs still hurt and you touch the cuts on your face just to remind yourself it really happened. 
> 
>   
>  You  don't know if the twitches and grimaces of pain across his face are in fact from the bruises and deep gashes all over him or if  he's having nightmares. Nightmares of screaming fathers. Of broken beer bottles and bones. Of Russian prostitutes and  babies, he never asked for. Nightmares of you walking out the door. 
> 
>   
>  You run your battered hand over his freshly washed hair and he stirs and licks his lips in his sleep. He looks different to you somehow now. Like some veil has  been lifted and  you're seeing him for the first time.  He's always been brave. Hard. Strong. But in shit-talking, bitch-slapping south-side trash ways. Now  he's all those things for  different reasons . 
> 
>   
>  His eyes  flutter open because you  won't stop touching him. Just to make sure this is real. That what happened was real. That  he's really here .
> 
>   
>  “Gallagher, go the fuck to sleep. And stop staring at me and petting me like some kinda dog. Its creepy as fuck.”
> 
>   
>  “I-”
> 
>   
>  “Don't. Just lay down and go to sleep.”
> 
>   
>  You cave and finally lie down next to him. A few seconds later he reaches back and grabs your arm and drapes it around his middle; intertwining your fingers with his. 
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **_ Oh, _ ** **_ and I  _ ** **_ don't _ ** **_ know _ **
> 
> **_ I  _ ** **_ don't _ ** **_ know what  _ ** **_ he's _ ** **_ after _ **
> 
> **_ But  _ ** **_ he's _ ** **_ so beautiful _ **
> 
> **_ Such a beautiful disaster _ **
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> The dust settles and all you can see is the dark figure under the bleachers.  You’d know that bow-legged stance anywhere. Your eyes adjust to the sun beating down from the spring sky and he smirks at you and the world stops spinning for a second.  It's him. Scruff on his face  you've only seen a handful of times. His hair, longer than  you've ever seen it hidden under a beanie. His jackets were always too big for his frame but  somehow, it's never looked so good on him.
> 
>   
>  You follow when he nods his head for you to come to him and you do, as always like a puppy.
> 
>   
>  You scuffle, as if nothing and everything has changed, and fuck if he still smells  exactly the same .  You're flooded with feelings, memories, and you know you  shouldn't be here but you  can't bring yourself to go. 
> 
>   
>  He smiles the same; that  cocky smirk he's been giving you for years now and fuck if he  doesn't look good. And you tell him.
> 
>   
>  He tells you  you're under his skin and all you want to do is touch him. His face is so close; you  can't stop looking at his lips and you  don't think  he's ever looked so sure of himself. So good.  It's a ridiculous though to have;  he’s just escaped from prison and he  probably  hasn't showered in days and it brings you back to those early days and fuck you want to kiss him.
> 
>   
>  He's gone as quickly as you came and you know your life will never be the same. This is the moment where you know there is no going back.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> **_ He's _ ** **_ soft to the touch _ **
> 
> **_ But frayed at the ends he breaks _ **
> 
> **_ He's _ ** **_ never enough _ **
> 
> **_ And still  _ ** **_ he's _ ** **_ more than I can take _ **
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> You're scared.  You're not  gonna make it in here. Saying goodbye to your family felt like you were saying goodbye at your deathbed and you wonder for a split second if you should have just gone with him across that border. What did not going get you? Nothing ever made sense without him and you knew nothing was going to be the same when you saw him under those bleachers and fuck if you  weren't right.
> 
>   
>  You hear your cell open and you choke back tears you know you will get the shit beat out of you for so you turn to face the inevitable. To face your fate.
> 
>   
>  He looks so smug, the bastard. With the yellow making his eyes even more blue and his head tilted while your brain catches up with your eyes.
> 
>   
>  A thousand things cross your mind but you can already smell the familiar scent of him and if your eyes  aren't playing tricks on you,  you'll get to smell it every day in this small space. 
> 
>   
>  He's here. Again. He promised you once on a southside street that he loved you. And it meant better or worse and here he is in the worst of it, like he promised.
> 
>   
>  You're such a shit. You  don't deserve him. 
> 
>   
>  But then  you're on top of him and you can feel him everywhere through polyester and cotton and you just  can't seem to care.
> 
>   
>  You used to think you could save him. That you were saving him, had saved him all those times, all those years ago. But like the force of nature that Mickey Milkovich is, you know now he was saving you. Every single moment. Every single time.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> **_ And if I could hold on _ **
> 
> **_ Through the tears and the laughter _ **
> 
> **_ Would it be beautiful _ **
> 
> **_ Or just a beautiful disaster _ **
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> You can hear the cheesy pop song in the distance, like  you're underwater and there are voices above you, above the water, but all you can feel is him in your arms. You made it. You both did and you  aren't sure how. You  aren't sure how a demand for a gun and a crowbar to the back led to this. How 2 south side pieces of trash made it through this world, this town, and got to have this.
> 
>   
>  Love.
> 
>   
>  He's gripping his beer bottle and the back of your suit jacket and you just keep scratching at the soft pieces of hair on the back of his neck like you know he likes. It grounds him when the world is too much around the two of you.  You've done it since you were kids. Stupid kids who thought you were both fucked for life and nothing was going to change that. 
> 
>   
>  But it did change. You changed each other. And it was hard. There were times you both  weren't sure you were going to make it. Times when you  weren't together. Times when the thought of  being together hurt worse than being apart.
> 
>   
>  But with him in your arms as you barely sway to music, all the disasters and pain were worth it. Because there was laughter too. And soft moments. Moments no one would ever understand. Moments even you both  don't understand. This could all end in disaster. It  probably will . But  you’ll take it. Like everything else  you’ve taken when  it's come to the both of you. He kisses your neck and you hold him tighter because fuck it, you can, and he leans back to look up at you; that look  he's been giving you all day. 
> 
>   
>  And fuck if  he's not the most beautiful disaster  you’ve ever seen.


End file.
